What If?
by The Dead Writer
Summary: Draco Malfoy was sent to kill Albus Dumbledore his sixth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. However, the night it was supposed to happen...something stopped him. Something other than his own guilty conscience.
1. Chapter 1

What If?

Chapter One

I was shaking as I walked swiftly up towards the top of the Astronomy tower, so late in the evening. However, it was not in anticipation, like those who would follow me to the tower after my deed was done, would think it was. No. It wasn't that. It would never be that. Despite what people thought, I was not a monster. Despite what people said, I did not choose this. My father forced me into this society of murders and traitors. If it had been up to me, I would have stayed on the side of the light. I would have betrayed the darkness that plagued and dirtied me and my family, and turned my father in, instead of defending him. I would have steered clear of the horrid things that group of killers was doing nearly every day.

But I hadn't had a choice. I'd never had a choice. Unless I'd been born into a different family, I'd never had a choice.

I pulled my wand out of my pocket and held it in front of my face, pointing it directly at the elderly man, who was my headmaster, sitting on some sort of outcropping in the metal structure we were both standing on. My hands were shaking. I could tell because my wand wavered before my face. Right before I stepped into the light of the Dark Mark that shone above both me and the elderly man on the top of the windy Astronomy tower, so late at night, I observed the man I was supposed to kill. Albus Dumbledore. I knew very little about him I now realized as I stared at him and tried to think of something that he would be most remembered for. I only knew what everyone else knew. And that wasn't much beyond the heroic things he had done for the wizard nation over the few…hundred years he'd been alive.

I licked my lips and took a giant step, so I was standing in the light of the Dark Mark, right where Dumbledore could see me. He glanced over at me immediately, he even acknowledged my presence by saying cheerfully without any hint of panic or distress in his voice, "Good evening, Draco."

I tried to warp those three words, so that instead of them being a pleasant greeting, they were a vicious insult. My eyes narrowed as I was filled with the false anger I'd forced on myself. I glanced around, confirming that we were truly alone. I looked towards Dumbledore's feet. Resting there was a pair of broomsticks. I wondered what he had been doing, but before I could get too far off subject, I shook myself mentally, reminding myself, _That doesn't matter right now._ Nothing mattered. Nothing except the mission I'd been assigned.

However, another thought entered my mind as I stepped forward.

_What if it's Potter? Or one of his annoying friends? _

Unfortunately, since Potter and his obnoxious friends always seemed to be everywhere at once, there was the possibility that he was lurking nearby, ready to curse me, so I asked, in a voice that matched the anger I felt inside, "Who else is here?"

Dumbledore didn't answer my question. Not really. He just said, "A question I might ask you. Or are you acting alone?"

My eyes shifted from the broomsticks at Dumbledore's feet to his pale eyes. I wished more than anything I wasn't such a coward. I wished I could lower my wand and throw myself off the tower, instead of him. In a perfect world, I could just lower my wand and I wouldn't have to worry about someone coming up and finishing both me and him before me off. However, if this world were truly perfect, I wouldn't even be in this situation to begin with.

I licked my lips, forgetting for a moment that Dumbledore had asked me something, since I was too caught up in my own thoughts. Then suddenly, I remembered and I replied, "No. I've got backup. There are Death Eaters here in your school tonight." The words were far angrier than I had imagined them in my head, but that was all for the better. I wanted this man to hate me before I killed him. Then I might not feel as horrible about what I was doing.

_Then I might not think about _her _so much…_

I shook thoughts of her from my mind as Dumbledore gave me a smile that didn't seem sardonic at all in any way and said, "Well, well. Very good indeed. You found a way to let them in, did you?" He sounded amused, like I was his son, showing him some vast project I had just finished that no one my age would have been able to accomplish.

"Yeah," I answered, half stuttering. I was panting now as I got closer and closer to the realization of what I was going to do, even though _she _had begged me, with tears streaming down her face not to. I tried to keep the tears from my own eyes and focus as I added, "Right under your nose and you never realized!" I congratulated myself for sounding as resentful and angry as I did, but despite the hateful words and boasting, the elderly man was still calm and kind to me in his reply.

"Ingenious. Yet…forgive me…where are they now? You seem unsupported."

I thought so seriously about just ending it all right then that I even glanced back over my shoulder to see how far the ground was from where I was standing , wondering if I would die if I just dropped off of the building right now. _How can this man be asking me to forgive _him_? I'm the one who's going to be doing the killing and _he's _asking for forgiveness?_

I was so baffled that I almost forgot to reply. I turned back to Dumbledore, licked my lips yet again and said, "They met some of your guards. They're having a fight down below. They won't be long…I came on ahead. I – I've got a job to do." My heart raced as I said the words.

Finally Dumbledore said, softly, "Well, then, you must get on and do it, my dear boy."

My heart hammered against my rib cage and I wondered how Dumbledore could not hear it. Surely he could hear the thumping, the banging like an impatient man at the door, that permeated from my chest. I stared into his strange blue eyes, not daring to look anywhere else for fear that the tears that were lingering just behind my eyelids would break forth and begin streaming down my cheeks. I couldn't show any weakness if I was going to do this right.

"Draco, Draco, you are not a killer," Dumbledore said finally breaking my reverie.

"How do you know?" I said at once, before I could stop myself. I felt myself flush as I realized how childish I sounded and hoped that hee couldn't see the reddening – or really _pinkening – _of my cheeks. To compensate I added, with more force, "You don't know what I'm capable of. You don't know what I've done!"

The words made me think of _her._ I'd said the same thing to her once upon a time…when things were far more simple than they were now. _Were they ever truly simple as all of that?_ A voice in my mind asked and if I was going to be completely honest with myself, which was a rarity, I'd have to say no, nothing had ever been easy. Never. Not even when I'd tried to be the kind of good child my parents had wanted me to be.

"Oh yes I do," Dumbledore said mildly, breaking through my reverie once more. "You almost killed Katie Bell and Ronald Weasley. You have been trying, with increasing desperation, to kill me all year. Forgive me, Draco, but they have been feeble attempts…So feeble, to be honest, that I wonder whether your heart was really in it."

"It has been in it!" I shouted vehemently, trying to convince myself more than Dumbledore, since _her_ face appeared before me as it had after every single incident, throughout the year. "I've been working on it all year, and tonight –" A muffled yell that came from the depths of the castle below made me stiffen and glance over my shoulder, making me forget everything that was happening. Dumbledore I was supposed to murder, what would happen to me or _her_ if I didn't complete the job, the possibility that Potter and his friends were lying in wait somewhere in the shadows nearby. I only thought of her.

"Somebody is putting up a good fight," Dumbledore said conversationally. "But you were saying…yes, you have managed to introduce Death Eaters to my school, which, I admit, I thought impossible…how did you do it?"

I said nothing. A girls scream nearly stopped my heart. I was paralyzed with fear, but not for my safety anymore. For _her_ safety. I knew she would fight. And if she fought…she was bound to lose, especially against them. They were so much more powerful than she. And she was still very weak, weak from…

"Perhaps you ought to get on with the job alone," suggested Dumbledore, breaking me free from my inner turmoil once more. "What if your backup has been thwarted by my guard? As you have perhaps realized, there are members of the Order of the Phoenix here tonight too. And after all, you don't really need help…I have no wand at the moment…I cannot defend myself."

I forgot for a moment what I was talking about and I merely stared at him. My thoughts were still focused on her and everything about her. Her smile. Her eyes. Her beautiful face. I must have looked so stupid, just standing there before him as he spoke, my mind off in another time and place where everything was slightly easier, slightly simpler, even though we knew that the happiness we had couldn't last.

"I see," Dumbledore said, kindly when I neither moved nor spoke, though I don't think he quite understood why. Or maybe he did and he just didn't want to embarrass me as he added, "You are afraid to act until they join you."

I got angry then. For real. How dare this man question my bravery. _I'm brave enough for her._ I thought angrily, but a voice inside me whispered, _Just not for this mission, not for this job._

I didn't tell him any of that, though. "I'm not afraid," I snarled instead. I knew, even as I said it, I was lying both to myself and to him, since I still made no move to hurt him. "It's you who should be scared!"

"But why?" Dumbledore asked, sounding truly perplexed. "I don't think you will kill me, Draco. Killing is no nearly as easy as the innocent believe…" I had to hold back my sardonic laughter at this. He truly thought me innocent? It just showed how arrogant, how naïve he was. "So tell me, while we wait for your friends…how did you smuggle them in here? It seems to have taken you a long time to work out how to do it."

I could practically feel my face turning green as I suppressed the urge to scream in frustration and vomit in horror as the screams below us continued. At one time, I could almost swear I heard her voice, calling out to me, but I must have imagined it because in the next second every voice was lost in the cacophony that was going on below us. I gulped and took several deep breaths, trying to calm myself and push her as far from my mind as I could. I glared at Dumbledore, my wand pointing directly at his heart. Then I said, mainly because I thought he had a right to know, "I had to mend the broken Vanishing Cabinet that no one's used for years. The one Montague got lost in last year."

"Aaaah." Dumbledore's sigh was almost a groan. I suppressed the urge to run over to him and tell him I was sorry and beg him to take me far away from this place. Dumbledore closed his eyes as though he were very tired and weary before he continued. "That was clever…There is a pair, I take it?"

"In Borgin and Burkes," I said, hoping that if I kept talking, I wouldn't hear the screams below or think of her, "and they make a kind of passage between them. Montague told me that when he was stuck in the Hogwarts one, he was trapped in limbo but sometimes he could hear what was going on at school, and sometimes what was going on in the shop, as if the cabinet was traveling between them, but he couldn't make anyone hear him…In the end, he managed to Apparate out, even though he'd never passed his test. He nearly died doing it. Everyone thought it was a really good story, but I was the only one who realized what it meant – even Borgin didn't know – I was the one who realized there could be a way into Hogwarts through the cabinets if I fixed the broken one."

"Very good," Dumbledore murmured and I hated, yet again, that he complimented me instead of reprimanding me. "So the Death Eaters were able to pass from Borgin and Burkes into the school to help you…A clever plan, a very clever plan…and, as you said, right under my nose."

"Yeah," I said, trying to draw strength and comfort from his praise instead of overwhelming guilt. "Yeah it was!"

"But there were times," he went on to say, "weren't there when you were not sure you would succeed in mending the cabinet? And you resorted to crude and badly judged measures such as sending me a cursed necklace that was bound to reach the wrong hands…poisoning mead there was only the slightest chance I might drink…"

His reminding me of those incidences brought her face to my mind again. I remembered how she had pounded her fists into my chest, begging me to explain, wondering why I felt that I must do evil, instead of good.

_Why?_ She would implore of me. _Why must you do this? Why can't we run away together? Why can't we just go where he'll never ever find us?_

I would then collect her small, fragile hands in both of mine, kissing her fingers as though they were made of glass with my eyes closed and tell her, _Because he would find us. He would find us and then he would kill us, but not after he used you to torture me. I will never let that happen._

I realized that my own eyes truly were closed and that I was turned away from Dumbledore, my face a mask of pain. I narrowed my brows as I opened my eyes and turned back to him, my stare cooler than it had been a moment ago as I replied, "Yeah, well, you still didn't realize who was behind that stuff, did you?" He slid a little down the ramparts of the tower, the strength of his legs apparently fading, but my kindness was gone now and I could hardly care less.

"As a matter of fact, I did," he said, stunning me. I bit my lip to keep the shock from showing on my face as he went on. "I was sure it was you."

"Why didn't you stop me then?" I demanded.

"I tried, Draco. Professor Snape has been keeping watch over you on my orders –"

I shook my head, cutting through his words with my own, "He hasn't been doing _your_ orders, he promised my mother –"

"Of course that is what he would tell you, Draco, but –"

Dumbledore cut me off this time, but I refused to let him finish such a blasphemous sentence, so I cut through him shouting, "He's a double agent, you stupid old man, he isn't working for you, you just think he is!" I hated myself for my words. I wanted to turn the wand on myself and shout the curse I had to shout at this man. I deserved it far more than he. He had done nothing, but love and care for the people he was supposed to protect all his life and I…I had done so much wrong, hurting so many innocent people…probably her even…that I didn't deserve life.

"We must agree to differ on that, Draco. It so happens that I trust Professor Snape –"

My next words, even though they came out in a sneer, were meant to save Dumbledore from further heartache as I practically screamed, "Well, you're losing your grip then! He's been offering me plenty of help – wanting all the glory for himself – wanting a bit of the action – 'What are you doing?' 'Did you do the necklace, that was stupid, it could have blown everything –' But I haven't told him what I've been doing in the Room of Requirement, he's going to wake up tomorrow and it'll all be over and he won't be the Dark Lord's favorite anymore, he'll be nothing compared to me, nothing!"

I frightened myself. How could I say such a thing? How?

_Why can't we just go where he'll never find us?_

I swallowed hard, my tears swimming in my eyes now. I knew he must see them.

My father's words returned to me then. _Weak. You're so weak, Draco. How can you even dare call yourself my son?_ I had so badly wanted to tell him that I didn't, that I wished I wasn't his son, but that would have ended badly, that would have been a fight I couldn't win. Even for her, I could not have won that fight without making things worse.

"Very gratifying," Dumbledore said mildly. "We all like appreciation for our own hard work, of course. But you must have had an accomplice, all the same…someone in Hogsmeade, someone who was able to slip Katie the – the – Aaaah…" I froze with the realization that he knew I knew Unforgiveable curses. That was another thing she'd begged me not to do. Another sin I had committed without a second thought, thinking the whole time I was protecting her, when really I was just walking across a fraying rope that ended with our destruction. "…of course…Rosmerta. How long has she been under the Imperius Curse?"

I didn't want to answer. I begged my mouth to stay shut. I prayed I wouldn't say anything else I would regret, but my mouth didn't listen and even as I said it, I knew that trying to keep quiet was a moot point. I might as well go with it. "Got there at last, have you?"

There was another yell from below, rather louder than the last. This time I distinctly heard my name. And it was her voice. Screaming. "Draco!" I looked nervously over my shoulder again, dreading what I was going to see when the rest of the group arrived, then back at Dumbledore, who went on.

"so poor Rosmerta was forced to lurk in her own bathroom and pass that necklace to any Hogwarts student who entered the room unaccompanied? And the poisoned mead…well, naturally, Rosmerta was able to poison it for you before she sent the bottle to Slughorn, believing it was to be my Christmas present…Yes, very neat…very neat…Poor Mr. Filch would not, of course, think to check a bottle of Rosmerta's. Tel me, how have you been communicating with Rosmerta? I thought we had all methods of communication in and out of the school monitored."

"Enchanted coins," I spat, compelled to keep speaking, even though my wand had was shaking horribly. "I had one and she had the other and I could send her messages –"

"Isn't that the secret method of communication the group that called themselves Dumbledore's Army used last year?" asked Dumbledore. His tone was light and conversational, but I watched him slip an inch lower down the wall as he said it. I wished I were a good person. I wished, not for the first time, that I was Potter. Or even one of his friends, despite how annoying they were.

"Yeah, I got the idea from them," I said, with a twisted smile, thinking that I might as well personify evil. "I got the idea of poisoning the mead from the Mudblood Granger as well, I heard her talking in the library about Filch not recognizing problems."

"Please do not use that offensive word in front of me," Dumbledore said.

I gave a harsh laugh, but not because I was trying to be cruel. It was because _she_ was a Mudblood and I hated that word too. I had grown to hate it more than anyone I knew, probably even more than him. The only reason I said it now was to keep up the façade of being a cruel person. Though, if all truth be told, I didn't really need a façade for that, now do I? Still I said, "You care about me saying, 'Mudblood' when I'm about to kill you?" Me finally saying it made my insides recoil, sort of like an inner flinch. It reminded me of her, when I'd first raised my hand and she'd thought I was going to strike her.

"Yes I do," Dumbledore said, his feet sliding a little on the floor as he struggled to remain upright. "But as for being about to kill me, Draco, you have had several long minutes now, we are quite alone, I am more defenseless than you can have dreamed of finding me, and still you have not acted…"

She was what was keeping me from doing my job.

_Please! You don't have to do this!_

Her and her love.

_Why can't we run away together?_

Her and…just…her.

My mouth contorted involuntarily, as though I had tasted something very bitter. Though it wasn't thoughts of her. It was thoughts of what I had _done_ to her. Of what I was _doing_ to her, of what _they _were doing to her, of what her life was going to become after tonight. The bitter taste in my mouth was the bile rising in the back of my throat.

"Now, about tonight," Dumbledore went on. "I am a little puzzled about how it happened…You knew that I had left eh school? But of course," he answered his own question, "Rosmerta saw me leaving, she tipped you off, using your ingenious coins, I'm sure."

I swallowed saying, "That's right. But she said you were just going for a drink, you'd be back…"

"Well, I certainly did have a drink…I came back…after a fashion," Dumbledore mumbled. "So you decided to spring a trap for me?" When he put it that way, it sounded just as stupid and childish as it was in all actuality. _She was right._

"We decided to put the Dark Mark over the tower to get you to hurry up here, to see who'd been killed and it worked!" I thought I was shouting, but my voice came out in more of half a whisper and half a voice.

"Well…yes and no…"he said, trying to confuse me, obviously. "But am I to take it, then, that nobody has been murdered?"

I wished, oh how I wished I could say yes, but I wasn't going to lie to him. "Someone's dead," I said, my voice going up an octave as I said this. "One of your people…I don't know who, it was dark…I stepped over the body…I was supposed to be waiting up here when you got back, only your Phoenix lot got in the way…"

"Yes, they do that," he said.

There was a bang and shouts from down below, louder than ever; it sounded as though people were fighting on the actual spiral staircase that led to where we were. I heard _her_ screams. I heard her trying to make them stop through her tears. "Please stop! You have what you want! Please just don't hurt anyone else!" Someone shouted at her to shut up and I heard a hand hit her face hard. It sounded like Fenrir. I vowed to find a reason to break his nose once this was all over.

"There is little time, one way or another," Dumbledore said, breaking my ears away from the fight below us. "So let us discuss your options, Draco."

"_My_ options!" I said loudly, trying, again, to convince myself more than him. "I'm standing here with a wand – I'm about to kill you –"

"My dear boy, let us have no more pretense about that. If you were going to kill me, you would have done it when you first disarmed me, you would not have stopped for this pleasant chat about ways and means."

"I haven't got any options!" I said, feeling all of the color drain from my face. "I've got to do it! He'll kill me! He'll kill my whole family! He'll kill her!" _He's going to kill her anyway, _I reminded myself as the shouts below us grew in volume and proximity.

"I appreciate the difficulty of your position," Dumbledore told me. "Why else do you think I have no confronted you before now? Because I knew that you would have been murdered if Lord Voldemort realized that I suspected you." I noticed how he carefully avoided mentioning her and I wondered for not the first time that evening if there was more known about our relationship than we had thought. _Well obviously there is,_ I thought. _Otherwise, they wouldn't be holding her captive._

I winced at the mention of the Dark Lord's name. Because I am a coward. Because I am afraid. Afraid for her. For what they are going to do to her once we leave this place.

"I did not dare speak to you of the mission with which I knew you had been entrusted, in case he used Legilimency against you," he continued. "But now at last we can speak plainly to each other…No harm has been done, you have hurt nobody, though you are very lucky that your unintentional victims survived…I can help you, Draco."

His words are false. So many people were harmed _because_ of me. Katie Bell and Ron Weasley to start along with a list of countless anonymous muggles. And her now too. Always her. Just her knowing of my existence hurt her when she learned over everything I have done, of everything I have been doing for the past year and a half. Now she is going to be hurt worse beyond my imagination, and there is nothing I can do to stop it.

"No, you can't," I said to him, my words more tired and weary than angry and vicious. My wand hand was shaking very badly now as images of her being tortured, raped, and kill flashed through my mind. "Nobody can. He told me to do it or he'll kill me." _He'll kill her. _"I've got no choice."

"He cannot kill you if you are already dead," Dumbledore's words puzzled me, until he went on. "Come over to the right side, Draco, and we can hide you more completely than you can possibly imagine. What is more, I can send members of the Order to your mother tonight to hide her likewise." _I don't care about my mother. What about _her_? Can you save her?_ "Nobody would be surprised that you had died your attempt to kill me – forgive me, but Lord Voldemort expects it. Nor would the Death Eaters be surprised that we had captured and killed your mother – it is what they would do themselves, after all. Your father is safe at the moment in Azkaban…When the time comes, we can protect him too. Come over to the right side, Draco…you are not a killer…"

For the longest time, I just stared at Dumbledore. And wished with everything inside me that he was right. I wished I could lower my wand as I had been wishing the entire night, and believe that he could hide me. And my family. And her. But I knew the truth. The Potter's had died because someone betrayed them when they went into hiding. Someone they thought was their friend. Peter Pettigrew. He was never a suspected Death Eater. And all of my parents friends, anyone they could trust was a very well known Death Eater. My aunt Bellatrix, my mother's sister, was a Death Eater. And the other Death Eaters were dragging _her_ up here to torture me with and Dumbledore before me as well, since she was Potter's younger sister. Would he still want to help me even after I hurt her? _No, he wouldn't._ That voice inside reminded me.

"But I got this far, didn't I?" I said, slowly, testing the words on my tongue as I spoke them. "They thought I'd die in the attempt, but I'm here…and you're in my power…I'm the one with the wand…You're at my mercy…"

"No, Draco," he said quietly. "It is my mercy and no yours that matters now."

I did not speak. My mouth was open, my wand hand still trembling as I heard her screams. I could feel my wand drop by a fraction as if in slow motion. Tears were pooling in my eyes now. And the temptation to give in to him, to let him help me, help my family, help _her_, most importantly, was so strong that the words were about to leave my mouth, when I heard footsteps thundering up the stairs and a second later, I was pushed out of the way as four people in black robes joined me on the tower. I was paralyzed in fear now, my eyes unblinking as I took in the robed figures surrounding me and Dumbledore. I recognized all of them, but I couldn't have cared less about their appearing. All I saw was the small figure, face hidden in the shadows that was struggling against Fenrir's iron grip as he held one huge hand against her mouth, keeping her from screaming, and used the other to grip her arm.

I watched Dumbledore standing next to Fenrir give an odd lopsided leer and a wheezy giggle. I wished had the courage to turn my wand to him and curse him, but then I knew Fenrir would hold her against me and I wasn't going to risk her life anymore than I already had.

"Dumbledore cornered!" the lopsided man, Amycus, said. He turned to the stocky woman standing next to him, Alecto, who was grinning eagerly. "Dumbledore wandless, Dumbledore alone! Well done, Draco, well done!"

I knew that if I really were all for what I was doing, I should've feel proud of myself for getting as far as I had. I should feel like I had finished a job well done, but I didn't. I didn't even hear what Amycus was saying. All I saw was her. Her eyes, wide with terror, her hands, so small and fragile, compared to Fenrir's tugging at the hand clapped around her mouth to no avail.

While I was stuck in my trance, staring at her horrified face, Dumbledore said calmly , "Good evening, Amycus. And you've brought Alecto too…Charming…"

Alecto gave an angry snicker. "Think your little jokes'll help you on your deathbed then?" she said, jeeringly. I could help, but wince, if only slightly, at her harshness towards the headmaster. The man and who was supposed to have been long since dead by now. Because I killed him.

"Joke?" Dumbledore asked, sounding amused. "No, no, these are just manners."

_Stop using them!_ I wanted to shout. _Stop being so polite! Make me hate you! Make me want to kill you!_ However, I knew then, that even if I had wanted to kill him, I couldn't have. She was right there. I wasn't going to murder anyone in cold blood with her right there.

"Do it," Fenrir hissed at me. I blinked, trying to clear my mind, trying to pretend she wasn't right there.

_Draco, please no. Don't do this. You don't have to._

"Is that you, Fenrir?" Dumbledore asked, his voice only background music to the disharmonious conversation banging around in my head.

_I have to. To save your life and mine._

"That's right," Fenrir rasped. "Pleased to see me, Dumbledore?"

_There is nothing in this world that you_ have _to do, Draco. You don't _have _to be a Death Eater. You don't _have _to kill Dumbledore. You don't _have _to love me._

"No, I cannot say that I am."

_You're wrong. I do have to love you. I promised you I would love you forever. I promised you I would always be there to catch you when you fall. I intend to keep that promise in any way I can._

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Fenrir grinning, showing off his yellow, pointed teeth. Blood was trickling down his chin and I watched, in horror and disgust, as he licked his lips very, very slowly, obscenely and said, "But you know how much I like kids Dumbledore."

I glanced at _her_ still in his vise like grip, praying that he hadn't hurt her, handed cursed her. But her eyes were pleading, telling me that, even if she hadn't been cursed she had been hurt beyond repair this night in so many ways. She looked so desperate, so hurt, so in pain in that moment that a single tear fell from my eye and landed on my hand that was halfway up to wiping my face. I dropped my hand, wishing that instead I could reach out to her to wipe the tears that were running freely and silently down her face instead.

"Am I to take it that you are attacking even without the full moon now? This is most unusual…You have developed a taste for human flesh that cannot be satisfied once a month?"

"That's right," Fenrir said. I watched his hold on _her_ tighten. "Shocks you that, does it, Dumbledore? Frightens you?"

_It frightens _me_,_ I thought, more tears welling up in my eyes and threatening to fall down my cheeks. _You will hurt her._

"Well I cannot pretend it does not disgust me a little," Dumbledore replied. "And, yes, I am a little shocked that Draco here invited you, of all people, into the school where his friends live…"

"I didn't," I breathed, though that was just a straight up white lie. I could tell it hurt her, since more tears fell from her eyes, wetting Fenrir's hand. I looked everywhere, but at that man's, no – that _monster's_ – face. "I didn't know he was going to come – " I began, which was half true, since I had thought it would be Bellatrix in his place, but I didn't get a chance to tell Dumbledore this. Fenrir interrupted me.

"I wouldn't want to miss a trip to Hogwarts, Dumbledore," he rasped. "Not when there are throats to be ripped out…" My thoughts immediately flashed to her and I got a thousand horrible images of him hurting her in a thousand different ways. It didn't help at all when he went on to say, "Delicious, delicious…"

He picked his front teeth with a yellowed fingernail as he added,"I could do you for afters, Dumbledore."

"No," said a Death Eater that I truly did not know. "We've got orders. Draco's got to do it. Now, Draco, quickly."

I knew I was showing less resolution than ever. I knew I looked as terrified as _she_ did as I turned and stared into Dumbledore's face, which was even paler and rather lower than usual, since he had slid even farther down the rampart wall. My hand holding my wand began to tremble even harder.

"He's not long for this world anyway, if you ask me!" Amycus shouted as Alecto gave her wheezy giggle. "Look at him – what's happened to you, then, Dumby?"

"Oh, weaker resistance, slower reflexes, Amycus," said Dumbledore. "Old age, in short…One day, perhaps, it will happen o you…if you are lucky…"

"What's that mean, then, what's that mean?" Amycus yelled, suddenly violent. I was just as perplexed by Dumbledore's meaning as he was, but before Dumbledore could answer, he went on, "Always the same, weren't yeh, Dumby, talking and doing nothing, nothing. I don't even know why the Dark Lord's bothering to kill yer! Come on, Draco, do it!"

_No! No, Draco! Please, please no!_

However, just at that moment, almost like a messenger sent from God, there were renewed sounds of scuffling from below and a voice shouted, "They've blocked the stairs – Reducto! REDUCTO!" It was someone from the Order and, although, they didn't frighten me, the Death Eater's around me seemed quite nervous.

"Now, Draco, do it!" the Death Eater I didn't know, hissed angrily.

But my hand was shaking so badly that I could barely aim. I was afraid if I tried now I might hit _her_. She and Fenrir were standing so close to him. Half of me couldn't help, but wonder if that was done on purpose, while the other half wondered why, out of everyone else they could have taken hostage, they chose her, unless they knew…about us…

"I'll do it," Fenrir snarled, shoving her to the ground. She let out a gasping breath that sounded more like a sob and the unknown Death Eater, hurried over and grabbed her, holding her much as Fenrir had a second before as he shouted to the werewolf, "I said no!"

Then, suddenly, with no warning, there was a flash of light and Fenrir was blasted out of the way. He hit the side of a rampart and staggered, looking like anger personified. My heart was hammering so hard as my eyes tried to adjust from the shock of the bright light that it seemed impossible that no one could hear it.

"Draco, do it or stand aside so one of us –" Alecto began, but she never finished. At precisely that moment, Severus Snape, my mentor in many ways, the potions master and, apparently, a loyal Death Eater, appeared. His wand was clutched so tightly in his hand his knuckles were white and as his dark eyes swept over the scene he'd happened upon on the tower, I noticed they seemed, more nervous than pleased.

"We've got a problem, Snape," Amycus said, sounding annoyed, though his eyes and wand were fixed on Dumbledore. "The boy doesn't seem able –"

"Severus…"

The sound made us all freeze. Me, the Death Eaters, Snape. Even _she_ stopped her struggling. In a way, the sound frightened me. Dumbledore headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, one of the greatest and most renowned wizards in the world, was…pleading.

Snape said nothing. He only walked forward and pushed me roughly out of the way, making me lose sight of her for a moment. The Death Eaters fell back without a word. Even Fenrir cowered. For a moment, he gazed at Dumbledore. Foremost in his gaze and etched into his face was revulsion and hatred, but behind that, carved into the softer parts of his skin were nervousness, sadness and…regret.

"Snape…please…"

Snape raised his wand and pointed it directly at Dumbledore.

"_Avada Kedavra!"_


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

I didn't have much time to react to what Snape had done, since I was pushed back down the Astronomy tower stairs rather quickly – or so it seemed to me – before I was rushed through a series of meaningless halls in the castle and practically thrown out the back door past Hagrid's hut to the Forbidden Forest behind it. As I walked swiftly past the hut, I remembered how my third year the Hippogriff, Buckbeak, had gashed my arm with his enormous talons. The wound hadn't been as bad as I'd made it out to be, but that was before. It was this year I'd changed. When we entered the forest, I remembered how Potter, Granger, Weasley and I had gone searching for some unknown evil that was lurking there during my first year. I'd run screaming when I'd seen what it really had been. But, again, I had been eleven years old. If I were to face that thing now, I would have with a smile on my face if it would have taken me out of the situation I now found myself in.

I glanced over at her for a moment, just to make sure she was okay, that the unknown Death Eater, who was holding her, wasn't hurting her or holding her too tightly or scaring her too much. I knew the last one was something I had no control over no matter how much I wished I did, but nonetheless, I needed her to be safe or as safe as I could get her, since I was the one who had put her in this position. Anything that happened to her from this moment forward was my fault.

It was almost as if reality and the god of pain, heartache and suffering (the personification of this is otherwise known as, in the wizarding world, the Dark Lord) read my mind at precisely that moment, since not even a second later Bellatrix Lestrange appeared out of nowhere and slammed me up against the nearest tree. She pressed her wand hard against my throat. My confusion was momentary, since in the next moment I heard _her_ scream.

"Draco! No!" The she cried out as someone slapped her hard across the face. Apparently, Fenrir had taken his hand off her mouth. I tried to catch a glance of her, but Bellatrix blocked my view of _her_, Fenrir and the others, and dug her wand harder into my throat, making black dots appear at the edges of my field of vision.

"Who is she?" Bellatrix hissed in my ear. I didn't reply. "Answer me!" Her wand felt like it was going to break through my skin and pierce my windpipe, killing me. Still I kept my mouth shut. I refused to endanger _her_ anymore than I already had.

However, it seemed that by not answering Bellatrix I was endangering her further, since her wand let up, if only slightly, on my neck, as she nodded over her shoulder at the group standing silently behind us.

I still could not see _her_ around Bellatrix, but I heard her cry out as Fenrir's fist connected with her small face.

Not wanting to have to hear her pained cries any longer, no matter what the cost, I opened my mouth and, around the pressure of Bellatrix's wand, rasped, "Sophia Avery." I watched through my blurred vision as my aunt put her arm behind her to single Fenrir to stop hurting _her,_ Sophie, my _love._

"What did you say?" Bellatrix asked, her face morphing from the mask of pure anguish to one of sick joy.

I hadn't realized I'd said the second part of my thoughts aloud until that moment and then I wished more than anything I possibly could have wished at that moment, that I had kept my mouth shut.

"She's your_ love_?" Bellatrix said the tone of utter disbelief very apparent in her sickening voice. I swallowed hard as she glanced back and forth between Sophie and I, a sick smile now playing on her face, eliciting a fear that had been hidden deep within me until just now.

"How?" was all she asked. "How can you, Draco Malfoy, Death Eater, pureblood and servant of the Dark Lord, even think for a _moment_ that you could be with this girl, Sophie Avery, a Mudblood, and both Dumbledore's and Harry Potter's plaything, but having a heart of light purer than yours could ever hope to be?"

"Love has no rules," I whispered, swallowing again before I spoke.

Bellatrix merely laughed mordantly.

"In the muggle world, perhaps," she replied, "but this," she added, taking a step closer to me, her wand digging deep into my neck, yet again, "is a different world entirely. And in this world there _are_ rules. The evil cannot be with the good. The darkness cannot coexist with the light just as oil cannot mix with water. They separate. You, Draco Malfoy, are the darkness and she is the light. The side of darkness is not nearly as merciful as the side of light in any way. That makes us stronger than them. You are not strong, Draco, that is very apparent," she whispered in my ear, sending shivers down my spine. "You are _weak_. And unless you prove your strength, both you and her will die, long slow and painful deaths." She took a step away from me, her wand, lifting off my throat completely, allowing me to breathe once more.

"Are you strong, Draco?" Her arm dropped as she continued to step away, walking backwards, until she was standing right next to Sophie. "Or are you_ weak_!"

On the last word, she wheeled around, fist raised high. I closed my eyes and turned away, knowing that if I didn't, I would see her hurt _her_ and I knew if that happened I wouldn't be able to control what I did next. To keep her safe, to keep her alive, I had to keep myself under control.

I heard her cry out again as this time Bellatrix's fist slammed into her cheek. When I opened my eyes again, I watched her face snap the complete opposite way it had been facing before as she fell to the ground. I tried to rush up to help her, to ease her pain in some way, so I could feel at least slightly good about myself when this night was over, but Fenrir and Snape grabbed both of my upper arms and held me away from her. I struggled against their iron grips, but they wouldn't let up and I couldn't make them let go.

"Sophie!" I shouted, against my better judgment. "Run! Please! Run!"

She shook her head, still holding her face with one hand as she tried to push herself up off the ground. Bellatrix pushed her back down, shouting at me, "You're weak! You're worthless! The others were _right_ about you! You're nothing more than a little weakling, who can do nothing on his own. All you care about is yourself and this insignificant Mudblood. Love equals weakness, Draco."

"Draco! Don't listen to her!" Sophie shouted, though her voice was choked with sobs she was trying to hold back.

"Shut up!" Bellatrix screamed, slamming her foot into Sophie's lower back, causing her to scream in pain, but, despite this, she didn't listen to the woman inflicting unimaginable pain to her fragile body.

She screamed again, "She's wrong, Draco! You're _good_! You're not the darkness! You're the light!" Bellatrix slapped her. "You're not selfish! You're more than selfless!" Bellatrix stepped on her wrist. "You're not worthless! You're worth everything to me!" It seemed at this point that Bellatrix had had enough. She pointed her wand at Sophie and was about to scream the torture curse, I could see it on her lips, but then, she stopped. She dropped her wand and turned to me, that sick smile reappearing on her lips.

It was then, I knew exactly what she wanted me to do to prove my strength and my loyalty to the Dark Lord.

I shook my head vehemently, saying, "No!" over and over and over again as Bellatrix walked calmly over to me.

"No! Please! No!" I thought I was screaming, but my voice came out as a whisper and was barely heard above the rustling of the wind all around us and Sophie's silent cries.

With a rush of adrenaline, I ripped my left arm from Snape's grasp or maybe he let me go; I couldn't tell; either way, I raised my arm to hit Bellatrix, but she grabbed my wrist, her grip just as tight if not tighter than Snape and Fenrir's. She pulled my wrist, so that my face was nearer hers. She didn't look overly pleased or have that expression of sick joy anymore. She looked determined and angry.

"Unless you want that girl to _die_, you will do _exactly_ as I say," she hissed in my ear as she thrust my wand into my hand. I hadn't noticed she had taken it. She pulled Snape and Fenrir away from me, grabbed my upper arm and dragged me towards Sophie, lying in so much pain already on the leaf covered floor of the forest. She raised my wand arm for me and whispered in my ear, so intimately I wanted to push her away and run, "You're weak, Draco. Prove to me that you're strong. Or watch her die."

I knew, even though she didn't say it, what she wanted me to do. She wanted me to scream the torture curse. She wanted me to watch with sick satisfaction as Sophie screamed in pain at my feet. She wanted me to tell her that I didn't love Sophie, that this was simple. But I didn't know, even if Sophie's life was on the line, if I could do this. Death is horrible, but there are worse things and I kept wondering to myself as I stared at Sophie, trying to work up the courage and anger to save her life, by hurting her irreparably, if this was one of the worse things.

I almost stepped away. I almost told Bellatrix no. I almost turned my wand on her instead and yelled the killing curse, but then Sophie said something. At first, I didn't know what she had said, since she'd only breathed it, her lips barely moving. Then, as the breaths processed in my mind, I realized what she had said.

_Do it._

I still hesitated. I still wanted to say no.

But the thing that made me yell, _"Crucio!"_ like I meant it, was those two simple words. That and Bellatrix's raised wand, aimed straight at Sophie's face.

Despite this, I shut my eyes as tight as I possibly could and turned my face away when I yelled the curse. That didn't close my ears though. I could hear Sophie screaming at the top of her lungs as though someone were cutting her into tiny pieces while she still breathed. I was grimacing and tears were rolling down my face. I was sobbing, actually. My wand was still pointed at _her_. My _love_.

The few moments that she was in that terrible pain, were the longest of my life. A million thoughts ran through my mind at once: _She's been through enough pain in her life, she doesn't need this too, she doesn't need _you._ You should have listened to her. You should have run away with her. You should have agreed to what Dumbledore was saying before it was too late._

Finally, after a lifetime, I calmed myself down, dried my eyes of tears, and tried to look triumphant as I pulled Sophie out of the curse. I turned my gaze to Bellatrix, trying hard not to look at see how hurt _she_ was. I could hear her breathing heavily as though she had been running long and hard for farther than she should have been, as Bellatrix turned to look at me, her sick smile having returned.

She stood up on her tiptoes, placing her lips against my ear, her touch still far too intimate to be comfortable. "That is strength," she whispered. She grabbed my face, squishing my cheeks together uncomfortably, before turning my face, so I could see what I had done to Sophie. She looked like death. She was pale and sweaty and shaking like she was lying in the middle of a blizzard. Her hair was sticking to her forehead. She looked up at me, as she drew in short shuttering breaths and I couldn't help it. Tears leaked out of my eyes once more. Bellatrix turned me back to face her and hissed, "Don't forget it."

Fenrir returned, lifting Sophie up by one arm like an old useless ragdoll. I wanted to help her. I wanted to be the one carrying her instead of that terrible werewolf man. But Bellatrix had other plans. She grabbed my upper arm again and dragged me through the Forbidden Forest to where a few other Death Eater's were waiting with broomsticks. I heard _her_ cry out at one point and I looked over my shoulder, seeing Fenrir half dragging her towards our destination. There were tears running down her face from the pain that it was obvious she was feeling from the grimace that dominated her expressions.

I wanted to break free of Bellatrix's grip and rush over to her, but I knew that could only end badly. One of the two of us, if not both of us would be hurt badly. Sophie was already in excruciating pain. She didn't need any more.

Finally, we reached the clearing where my father and several other Death Eater's were waiting with broomsticks for themselves and the rest of us. There wasn't one for Sophie, which made me wonder if they were going to risk trying to have her ride with someone else.

It was obvious the moment Fenrir appeared with her that taking her hostage hadn't been part of the original plan. My father's eyebrows went up at the sight of her and the other Death Eater's gave her and the rest of us questioning glances. I watched my feet walk over the dead leaves that covered the forest floor to avoid their suspicious gazes, but when I thought that my father would probably question that too, I tilted my head upwards and looked everywhere, but at his and the other Death Eater's faces.

It wasn't until we had all gotten our broomsticks and Bellatrix grabbed Sophie from Fenrir to have _her_ ride with her that my father asked, "Who is that girl, Bellatrix?"

"A filthy Mudblood," Bellatrix replied, her tone managing to sound annoyed and angry at the same time. "Your son knows more about her than any of us do."

He gave me a look that was a promise we would be talking about this more once we arrived at the hideout where the Dark Lord and the rest of his army were staying. I stared at the beautifully hand-carved handle of my broomstick and kicked off the ground the second I heard someone else do so.

I tried to fly just outside of the group, but not so far out that it would be noticed for the first half of the flight. It was around halfway through that I realized if I was so far away I wouldn't be able to protect Sophie if Bellatrix decided to try to hurt her. I flew back towards the group and put myself right behind my aunt. She was holding onto the broomstick with one hand and with the other she was keeping any sound from escaping Sophie's mouth. I tried to figure out how Sophie was managing to keep herself from falling off the broomstick, but when I could come up with no logical explanation, I figured Bellatrix must have been the one holding her up by only holding her mouth.

I closed my eyes, trying to think of happier times as tears, and remnants from my last crying episode, filled my eyes again.

"_You don't have to do this, Draco," she says softly to me. Her arms are wrapped around me. Her left hand in my hair, stroking it gently, soothing me. Lately, I have been crying more, knowing what I must do for both our sakes. She thinks differently. She thinks I can change things. She thinks I don't have to do this._

_She doesn't understand how badly I wish she were right._

_I hold her tighter against me, saying just as softly, "I must, Sophie. I must to keep both of us safe. To keep you safe."_

_She pulls away to cough. They are worse than normal that time. She holds one hand against her mouth and the other against her stomach, trying to make the pain less. I can tell from the grimace on her face when she finally finishes her hacking coughs that it helped very little. I feel the anger I always feel, whenever I see her so sick, grow within me, knowing that it is _their_ fault she is so ill. They have made her so fearful that she literally worries herself sick. _

_She staggers backwards and I rush over to her, catching her before she falls. She tries to push me away, telling me that she's fine, that I have nothing to worry about, but I'm not buying it. I wrap her in my arms and say in her ear, "I hate them for what they've done to you, Sophie. Why won't you tell someone about this? Why won't you end your pain?"_

_Her reply is immediate. "For the same reason you don't tell Bellatrix, your father, and any of the other Death Eaters' to leave you alone when she hurts you." I pull away to give her a confused look, but she pulled me back to her and whispers, "Fear."_

"Are you afraid I'm going to drop your _love_?" Bellatrix said suddenly, bringing me out of my memories of Sophie and her words, strengthening me beyond belief, her never knowing the capacity she had with them.

"_Don't let her get to you, Draco," she whispers to me, taking her hands away from my hair to stroke my face. I close my eyes, overwhelmed by her touch. "That's exactly what she wants. You can't let her have what she wants."_

_I hold her hand against my face, my eyes still closed and whisper, "How can I when you're not there?" She half smiles and looks down. I tilt her chin upwards, so she is looking into my eyes as I add, my voice barely audible, "You are my strength, Sophie Avery and I love you more than you will ever know."_

I said nothing in reply, refusing to let Bellatrix know in any way that she was getting to me. Instead, I stared at the horizon, trying to discern which house precisely was our hideout from here.

"I told you before, Draco," Bellatrix said softly, pulling her broomstick back, so she was flying right next to me, "this is only going to destroy you in the end. Love makes you _weak_." Sophie cried out as Bellatrix's grip tightened. "Love always makes you so much easier to break, to destroy."

I continued to ignore her, resisting the overwhelming urge to reach out and touch Sophie on the arm to reassure her as well as myself.

"You're fighting a losing battle, Draco," she went on. "Stop while you're ahead."

I knew in my heart that the best thing for Sophie truly would be to be elsewhere right now, away from me. She would be so much safer. So much happier. So much better off. But Bellatrix was right. I am a selfish person. A _very_ selfish person. And just the thought of not having Sophie in my life made my heart wrench painfully and make me think it was going to shatter into a thousand pieces I could never hope to mend.

Bellatrix laughed, bringing me out of the black hole of my own thoughts.

I turned to her.

"You will die in the end, Draco," she whispered, so only she and I could hear. "You will watch her suffer, dying slowly from what is being done to her and the illnesses that plague her body. And then, when this is all over, when we've sorted everything out, you, too will die. You will be the wizard version of that muggle story, Romeo and Juliet."

I tried not to listen. I tried not to let her harsh words break me.

But they did.

I knew what her next words were going to be before she even though about speaking them.

"Unless you prove to us that you are truly loyal to the Dark Lord, the both of you will suffer. Wouldn't you just like to make this all go away? It wouldn't be that hard. Just do what we say. Just be loyal. Or watch your _love_ die slowly. She's already dying. Can't you see? Don't you want to save her? We'll let her go. You'll be able to see her if you can bring her over to our side."

_No, _I thought instinctively to myself. _I will never, ever put her in the position I am in now. She has enough problems. She doesn't need any more._

I said none of this to Bellatrix. I didn't even nod or acknowledge that she spoke in any way. I heard her chuckle darkly as she realized what I was doing, before speeding away towards our destination

I think I see the mansion looming out of the darkness and the fog before anyone else does except for maybe Bellatrix. It's a ridiculously large structure meant for a wealthy family of five, but could hold closer to a hundred people easily. I follow Bellatrix, landing right in front of the mansion smoothly. I glance to my right and see Bellatrix step off her broom, forcing Sophie to do the same. Her hand is still clasped tightly over _her_ mouth.

_Please let her go,_ I think to myself, trying to keep the pleading look out of my eyes, knowing it will cause more trouble for the both of us. _Please don't hurt her. Please don't get her stuck in this vicious world. Please just let her go!_

I know that thought alone won't save her, but it's not like I can really do anything anyway. Bellatrix would kill us both and I'm not foolish enough to risk fighting her off. I know there is no way I could possibly win in a fight against her anyway. Even in her insanity she is a very accomplished and talented witch in the Dark Arts.

"_You have something far stronger than dark magic, Draco," she whispers. I hold her hands against my lips, kissing her knuckles gently, before pulling her into my embrace. She wraps her arms around me, bringing one hand up to stroke the hair that lightly brushes the back of my neck. "You have goodness within your heart and love."_

Love.

In many ways, Bellatrix was right about love. It makes you weaker and far more vulnerable. It makes you harder to destroy. It gives people something they can use against you. However, despite this Bellatrix was also very wrong. Love can also strengthen you. It can help you defeat anything if you only believe in the love you share with that one person, if you only think of their face. It gives you a reason to destroy those, who are hurting you, despite what they say they might do.

The other Death Eater's touched down around us and as soon as they did, Bellatrix started towards the house. I noticed that Sophie wasn't struggling in her grasp anymore. I thought it was most likely because she was too weak to or because she knew at this point it was no use. I was beyond tears at this point. It seemed as if every tear I had cried in the past couple of hours was the last within me and now I had no more tears to cry. This was probably for the best. If we met with the Dark Lord and he tried to hurt her or, more accurately, _succeeded_ in hurting her, I wouldn't be crying my eyes out and making him wonder why I cared so deeply for this girl. I had a feeling that that was going to be a popular topic of conversation that evening anyway, but I hoped that we could somehow skirt around it. Again, this seemed highly unlikely.

The moment Bellatrix pushed the door to the mansion open, she yelled into the house that looked as vacant as a graveyard at night from the foyer, "My lord we have returned."

Almost immediately after she finished speaking a robed figure appeared, as if out of nowhere, at the top of the grand staircase. The hood of the cloak he was wearing was up, but I could see a pair of red snake-like eyes, glowing in the shadows the hood cast. The figure, the Dark Lord, started down the stairs, going slowly as if he had all the time in the world. One hand trailed lightly down the banister and his robes flowed out behind him like a wedding dress.

"Who is the girl?" the Dark Lord asked, his voice hissing like that of a snake.

Bellatrix grinned. "Draco's plaything," she replied, the glee in her voice all too apparent. I licked my lips hoping she wouldn't say anything else. _Apparently, wishes do come true, _I thought after a moment when she was still silent.

"Exactly what do you mean by that?" he asked, trying to clarify.

Her grin widened. "She's his _love_."

The entire foyer went silent as the grave. I could feel eight pairs of eyes boring into my body, waiting for me to say something, anything. To confirm it. To deny it. But I said nothing. I began to shake again, fear for _her_ rising in my gut.

_Not._

"What exactly does _that_ entail, Draco?" I heard the Dark Lord whisper. I stared at the folds of cloth directly above his eyes, trying to draw courage and strength from the many reassuring words Sophie had whispered to me over this past year, but the fear within me only grew as I realized I could lose her right here and now.

In the blink of an eye, the Dark Lord was before me, his hood down, his disgusting face, shoved into mine. I closed my eyes in a grimace as his fingers trailed up my neck and he tilted my face upwards, so I had to stare into his daunting bright red eyes.

"Answer me, Draco."

I licked my lips.

"Or she dies."

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Bellatrix immediately pull her hand off Sophie's mouth, shove her to her knees and place her wand against her head, the words of the killing curse already on her lips. I glanced over at her briefly. She smirked.

I wondered, standing there, holding Sophie's life in the palm of my shaking hands, if telling the Dark Lord the truth about Sophie and I would actually save her. I doubted it, but if I didn't say anything at all she was most certainly going to die. The Dark Lord had no problem with killing innocent people. And Sophie, besides being associated with me, was completely innocent. She had never killed anyone. She had never even thought of hurting someone. In fact, it was she that was mostly being hurt. It was a wonder as to how and why she was put in Slytherin. She was a muggle born. She wasn't as cruel, if she was really cruel at all, to anyone in the other houses. She was quiet and preferred to be alone, since she had no friends. If she hadn't met me, she would still be there right now. She would be mourning Dumbledore's death with the rest of the student population.

She would be safe.

"Draco." The Dark Lord's word and tone was a warning.

I swallowed and said, trying to keep my voice even as well as give it some semblance of strength, "Her name is Sophia Avery. I met her my first year at Hogwarts. We weren't really friends until the end of our third year, but even then we barely talked."

"_Hello Draco," someone says, their voice barely audible above the cacophony of the crowds of students rushing through the hallways on their way to class._

_I look around, trying to figure out whom exactly has spoken, but it is impossible to tell through the sea of students milling around me. I scan the crowd once more before I hurry off to class and finally I see her. She is smaller than everyone else, but I know it was her. I have seen her only a few other times before in the three years I have gone to this school and spoken to her even less, but we're in the same house and I always have wondered why._

_I find myself smiling at her as I pass her. Our arms brush lightly and something zaps through me. I turn to look at her back as she becomes part of the crowd once more, wondering what exactly that zap was. _

_Could it have been…_

_No, I tell myself. Never._

_But still I wonder. I wonder all the way and all through class, if there might be something more between us than I had originally thought. I know the notion is ridiculous. How can there be more between me and a girl I barely know?_

"It wasn't until fourth year that we really began to get to know each other and at the end of our fifth year we began dating. She is a muggle born, but she's very smart and in Slytherin with me." I swallowed, knowing that the Dark Lord wanted to hear more than my simple description of our relationship. "She is, as Bellatrix said, my love."

The Dark Lord's grip on my chin tightened. He said nothing for a long time. Then, finally when I thought he wasn't going to say anything and was just going to kill her he asked, softly, so only I could hear, "You are, in fact, in love with this Mudblood?"

The prejudice name evoked an anger in me that I hadn't even been known to have until this year, but I kept my tone calm and stopped myself from telling the Dark Lord he was wrong for speaking the way he did, saying, "Yes, I am." I thought of adding just how much I was in love with her, but something told me that would be a mistake. A _huge_ mistake. I couldn't help, but think scathingly, _Add that to the other thousand huge mistakes I have made in my life. It wouldn't be the first time._

"How…strange," he replied. "We've had this problem before haven't we, Bella?" He turned to my aunt who's smirk widened. "That was when your sister married Lucius, wasn't it? Lucky for her he was already one of my Death Eaters. As for you, Draco, the girl you choose is a Mudblood and hardly useful. Unless you can make her into one of us."

I felt the tattoo of the Dark Mark on the underside of my left forearm burn. I knew the Dark Lord was making this happen to enforce his opinion and let me know what would happen if I refused, but the words that leapt out of my mouth were words that _she_ had encouraged for as long as we had been together and for as long as she had known of what I had been sent to do, "I can't let you do that."

This time the silence that followed my words wasn't an anticipating silence, it was a shocked one. No one had ever refused the Dark Lord's wishes before. Or at least, no one had refused them and lived to tell the tale.

The Dark Lord drew a deep breath and that was when I knew without a doubt that I was going to die and Sophie with me. His words only confirmed my suspicions. "Very well." He released my chin and turned to the Death Eaters surrounding us. He nodded to Fenrir and said to Bellatrix, "Only when I say."

What happened next happened so fast that I had no time to prevent it or stop it, but one moment I was staring at Fenrir, waiting for him to scream the last words I would hear in this world and the next…it was me screaming. I was surrounded by an unimaginable pain. It was the pain I knew I would feel if something ever happened to Sophia. I could hear screams akin to my own nearby and I knew that they were hers. I found myself wishing through the pain that they would only focus on me, that they would only hurt me instead of her. I knew this wish was a vain one. They knew that only hurting me would just keep me silent. If they hurt her too, then they might get somewhere. I wished that they didn't know this. I wished they thought I was weak enough that they could only torture me and never lay a finger on her and I would speak.

Finally, the pain ended. I was shaking all over and I found it difficult to stand or even sit for that matter. Someone eventually pulled me to my feet by my wrist and I realized it was the Dark Lord. He hissed in my face, "You can either induct her into our society or you can watch her die slowly and painfully. The choice is yours."

I thought about trying to get away from the rough hands that grabbed me and her, and dragged us up the grand staircase. They shoved us into a bedroom and I thought they were going to just lock the door and leave, but someone hit _her_ on the back of the head as hard as they could knocking her unconscious. I began to crawl over to her to make sure she was alright and try to get back whoever had harmed her, but I wasn't even halfway there before someone did the same to me.

I fell to the ground and right before I hit the ground and immediately fell into blackness I saw my arm, reaching out towards Sophie's, mere centimeter's away from touching her hand, covered in her own blood.


	3. First Year

_First Year_

I am standing on a staircase far larger than any of the ones in my mansion at home, waiting for Professor McGonagall, the head of Gryffindor house, to come back and lead us into the Great Hall to get sorted into our own houses. I already know what house I'm going to be in, but that doesn't mean I'm any less nervous. From my place, leaning against the banister, I can see almost every face of every person crowded on the stairs around me. Most of them are talking to kids they already know or met on the train. There are some, however, who are just standing awkwardly off to the side by themselves. There is one girl I noticed in particular, who is standing against the banister opposite me, sketching furiously in a notebook she's holding inches from her nose. I am about to try to go and talk to her when I catch sight of a boy with messy jet black hair and round glasses.

I smirk and say before I can stop myself, "So it's true then, the saying on the train? Harry Potter has come to Hogwarts." Immediately whispers start up all around me and the black haired boy turns to look at me. "This is Crabbe and Goyle." I nod at the two boys standing next to me, before I push myself up off the banister and take four long strides, so I am standing right in front of the boy. "And I'm Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."

A red headed boy standing next to Harry Potter coughs as if he's trying to hide the fact that he's laughing.

I narrow my gray eyes that look silver angrily, turning to the boy and say on a sneer, "Think my name's funny do you? No need to ask yours. Red hair and a hand me down robe. You must be a Weasley." I turn back to Harry. "You'll soon find out some wizarding families are better than others, Potters. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there." I hold out my hand for him to shake, but he doesn't take it.

"I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself, thanks," he replies coolly.

I think about saying something else, but someone taps me on the shoulder. I turn around, an angry retort already forming on my lips, when I see it's Professor McGonagall. I turn back to Potter once more before I go back over to my place among the other students. I glance over at the girl, still sketching in her notebook. She isn't sketching anymore however, she is looking at me and now that she is, I can't seem to take my eyes off her. However, it isn't for her shoulder length dark brown hair that looks more like every shade of brown possible with a little red thrown into the mix; it isn't for her beautiful eyes that are ivy around her pupil and brown around that; and it isn't because she is far more beautiful than any other girl I have ever seen in my life. It is because before I could only see the left side of her face. Now I can see the right side and since I can see that, I can also see a huge hand shaped bruise covering her right cheek.

"We are ready for you now," Professor McGonagall says, breaking me out of my wonderment as the huge oak doors to the Great Hall open before me.

The Great Hall isn't called such for no reason. It is lit by thousands upon thousands of candles that are floating in midair over four long tables, where the rest of the students, are sitting. These tables are laid with glittering golden plates and goblets. At the top of the hall is another long table where the teachers are sitting. Professor McGonagall stops us just in front of this table. I look upward and see a velvety black ceiling dotted with stars.

"When I call your name," Professor McGonagall says, now unrolling a long scroll of parchment, "you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted." She looks down at the list and says, "Hermione Granger."

The girl, who must have been Hermione goes up, places the hat on her head and sits on the stool. After a moment the hat shouts, "Gryffindor!" The next girl is a Hufflepuff, but the boy after her is a Ravenclaw and the girl after him is a Slytherin. There is another Hufflepuff and two more Gryffindor's, including that Weasley boy before Professor McGonagall calls my name, "Draco Malfoy."

I swagger forward, sit on the stool, and the hat barely touches the hairs on the top of my head when it screams exactly what I had known it would, "Slytherin!"

I smirk and walk over to the Slytherin table to sit down.

There is what seems like a thousand other name before Professor McGonagall shouts the name of the girl with the large bruise on her face, "Sophia Avery." As she walks up, Professor McGonagall gives her a stern look as though daring her to tell her why there is such a nasty bruise on her face. Sophia says nothing. She only sits down and places the hat on her head.

It's on her head for maybe a few seconds longer than it was on mine when it screams, "Slytherin!"

I can feel the shock showing in my face as she walks over to the table and sits down across from me, but one seat to the left, so she's more kitty-corner to me than directly across. The only thought that keeps running through my mind is, _How?_ And _Why?_ She looks more like she belongs in Gryffindor or Hufflepuff, even Ravenclaw. Just not Slytherin.

She glances over at me and gives me a half smile that does something very strange.

It warms my heart…


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

When I opened my eyes, I was still lying in the same spot I had been when I was knocked out, but when I looked towards where Sophie had been lying, I saw nothing.

She wasn't there.

For a moment, I felt panic surge through me. I pushed myself to my feet, far too quickly since my head spun around in circles and black dots flashed before my eyes. I tried blinking several times to clear them as I whipped my head around, searching for Sophie, finally I saw her, sitting on the window seat in the small bedroom we'd been imprisoned in.

"Sophie," I whispered her name. She glanced over at me briefly, giving me a look that made me want to cry, before turning back to whatever she was watching outside. In the dim gray light, cast from the small window she was sitting near, I could see her face. She had a split lip, and the beginnings of a black eye. I was sure that if I could see beneath her dirty clothes there would be bruises all up and down her arms and legs too.

The sight of her twisted my heart.

"Sophie," I breathed her name again, before walking over to her, taking off the black tuxedo jacket I was wearing and draping it over her shoulders. I was wearing a black turtleneck beneath, so I was much warmer than she must have been.

I wasn't sure if she wanted anything to do with me at the moment, so I turned to walk away, when she reached out and grabbed my hand, wrapping her small slender fingers around my hand. "Please don't go," she whispered. I turned back around, entwining my fingers with hers. She leaned heavily against me, drawing her legs up against her chest, her head resting just above my bellybutton.

We stood there, silently for what felt like hours, but must have been only minutes or seconds. I watched people passing by below, not even able to see the mansion. There was a man with his two children trailing behind him on bicycles. There was a woman, talking on the phone, while she was walking her dog. And there was a couple, sitting on a bench across the street, holding hands and gently kissing one another. I knew when Sophie noticed them because her grip on my hand tightened. I bent down slightly, pulling her head closer to me, so I could kiss the top of it.

"Draco." Her voice was barely above a whisper. She grabbed the collar of my jacket as I began to pull away. I looked at her out of the corner of my eye, before her lips connected with mine. At first, I didn't know why she wanted to kiss me when we were in such a dire situation, but after a moment, I closed my eyes and held her face tight against as I kissed her passionately.

When we broke apart, we stayed mere inches apart for a moment before moving away slowly. She went back to lying her head against my torso, while staring out the window. We were silent for a few minutes more before she broke the silence.

"They're going to hurt us, aren't they," she said. She said it as a statement. Not a question, which made me swallow hard. She almost sounded like she was giving up already.

I took a deep breath and said, in a strained voice, "Yes, they probably will."

"What do they want?"

I looked down at her, trying to come up with a good response, but nothing came to mind. I didn't know what they wanted. I knew they wanted my loyalty and probably her loyalty. But that couldn't be all. They wouldn't be holding us captive for that. They would kill us if that was all they wanted. They would have killed us a long time ago if that was really truly what they wanted, but they hadn't, so that couldn't be it.

_You have something they want,_ something told me.

_What is it that we have?_ I replied, since I could think of nothing of any value that either I or Sophie had that they would want more than anything.

I froze. I was sure _I _had nothing they might want, but Sophie…I only assumed she would have nothing they wanted because she was muggle born. However, there was always the possibility that she might have something I didn't know about. Again, I had to ask myself, _What would she have that anyone else would want?_

The voice in my head immediately replied, _Something you don't even know about._

I licked my lips, looking out the window again at a bird flitting by the window, singing happily, free from any cage or care in the world. I took another deep breath. I opened my mouth to ask her what I was thinking, but just then our door burst open.

Sophia and I jumped apart, though every single person that filled the doorway knew the reason we were locked in this room was because of our love…and maybe something else I was ignorant of. I stared at the Death Eater's gathered in the door and wondered, briefly what they were all doing there, until my father pushed his way to the front of their group. I realized only then that I had thought he was still in Azkaban. I should have been more surprised the night before, but I was too busy worrying about Sophia and her safety to realize my father had been broken out of Azkaban.

"So this is Sophia Avery," my father said, his lips curling in a sadistic smile. I looked with my eyes to my right and saw Sophie standing close next to me, so we were almost touching, but not quite. I resisted the urge to grab her hand and entwine her fingers with mine again. "Draco hasn't said much about you," my father went on to say. I felt fear race through me when I saw him smirk at Sophie. It was then I couldn't hold back any longer. I grabbed Sophie's hand and squeezed as hard as I could without hurting her, trying to protect her through touch alone. His smirk didn't waver, even when he looked down and saw our joined hands, in fact, I think it gave him strength as his smirk widened and he continued, "Interestingly enough, however, I already know much about you." My grip tightened. I felt her flinch beside me from the pain, but I couldn't let go. "I know that you are seventeen years old, like my son as well as in Slytherin, though no one is really sure why. I also know you are muggle born and would fit better in Gryffindor house." Here he turned to me, saying, almost mockingly, "Am I getting this correct so far, Draco?"

I didn't want to answer. I sucked my lips into my mouth and shut my eyes tightly, for a moment, trying to block out everything. I held my breath, squeezing Sophie's hand tighter still. I heard her hiss in pain. However, I knew that things would be worse than they already were if I didn't say something. I let my breath out and said in a voice that sounded obviously strained, "Yes, you have."

My father smirked. "Good." He gave me a cool smile before he added, turning back to Sophia, "I also know what you've been hiding, Avery." His voice was like a frozen wind blowing through a graveyard. "I'm not sure you understand this, but it belongs to the Dark Lord and how it ever got into your hands is a mystery to the whole wizarding world really." He ended his statement with a smirk that sent shivers down my spine. I wondered how that same smirk could ever have made me feel like my father could defeat anyone. I shook myself. That wasn't what I had meant at all. The fact he could defeat anyone was true. It was the fact that I had felt _good_ knowing that that puzzled me.

I swallowed again, glancing at Sophie with my eyes, wondering what my father could possibly be referring to. The threatening voice in my head echoed back to me what I had been thinking earlier, _She could be hiding something you don't know about._ I squeezed Sophia's hand tighter still. She winced.

I watched out of the corner of my eye as Sophie licked her lips, took a shuddering breath and said, "I don't know what you're talking about."

My father's, Lucius Malfoy's, face was mere inches from hers before I finished blinking. She took an automatic step back, hitting the wall. I felt the need to step in front of my father to protect her, but I knew that wouldn't help us any, so I resisted the urge to do so as he grabbed her wrist, dragging her closer to him, so close it was almost gruesome.

"You know _exactly_ what I'm talking about, Avery," he hissed, through gritted teeth. Sophie had turned her face away from him. She looked quite upset at his assault. I wished I could stop him without hurting her. He shook her and added, "And I am going to make sure that you give it back to us, no matter what it takes."

"I DON'T HAVE IT!" Sophie shouted in his face, wrenching her wrist from his grasp. My father leaned back as she stepped away from him, her face twisted into an angry sneer I had never seen on her before. "They took it," she whispered. "When they ransacked my house last summer they took it." She sounded near tears. "I haven't seen it since."

I took a deep breath, resisting the urge to ask what it was they were talking about.

My father looked unconvinced. He glanced back at the Death Eaters standing in the doorway. I recognized Grayback and Amycus among them, along with some other Death Eaters I had seen before. I saw Fenrir Grayback give me a ghastly smile and I knew, immediately, what my father wanted to do. My mouth dried up instantly and I found it hard to swallow. I couldn't watch that. Not again. Let alone _do_ it.

"We'll get it out of you somehow," my father muttered, walking swiftly back to his group standing in the doorway.

"Didn't you hear me?" Sophie shouted at their backs as they turned to leave. "I don't know where it is! Torturing me won't do you any good. It's hard to ask someone for something and expect a right answer when they don't have one to give, now isn't it?"

He spun around, looking livid. I wasn't sure about Sophie, I never saw her face, but I felt fear course through me, along with panic. My father wasn't the kind of man that took sarcastic words directed at him well. In fact, disobeying him usually wasn't a good idea. I tried to grab Sophie's hand to pull her closer to me, but she pulled her hand away, obviously trying to tell me she didn't need my protection.

"Pain and darkness doesn't work on everyone, Mr. Malfoy," she said, shaking her head. "Besides, evil never prevails anyway."

My father strode back and slapped her across the face hard. "You would do well to control your tongue, Ms. Avery," he replied, using the formal at the beginning of her last name as though it were an insult. "The Dark Lord isn't as merciful as the rest of us are."

"When will I be seeing him, so I can tell him what I told you," she said, loudly, her voice sounding taunting and resentful as my father walked out of the room.

He turned around and smirked. "Soon enough." His eyes shifted to me and I couldn't tell whether he was pleased that I would be at this little meeting also or if he was upset. "You too, Draco."

I said nothing in reply.

Then they were gone.

Sophie glared at the door as it slammed behind them. We heard a key turn in a lock. Sophie ran to the door and began pounding it with her fists, thinking she might be able to break her way through the door. I knew it didn't really matter. Even if we did manage to get out of this room, we were still helpless. We didn't have our wands and without them we would be cursed or killed and then either thrown back into this room or in a back alley.

After a moment, she sank to the ground. Her thin body was shaking and I knew she was crying. I bent down, picking up my jacket, which had fallen to the floor a while ago when my father had been confronting her about, who knew what, and walked over to where she was sitting on the floor. I knelt down next to her, wrapped the jacket around her shoulders and pulled her to me, so I could hold her, while she cried. I noticed, as she wrapped her arms around my torso that the fleshy part on the side of her hands was covered in splinters and blood.

"I don't understand them," she sobbed into my neck. "What gives _them_ the right to hurt people? Why do they think that torturing people will make them want to give them what they want? I'd think it would just make them more resilient to _not _give them what they're after."

I rubbed her arm gently, licking my lips and saying, "I think the reason they do it is because with most people it works. People don't like pain and if that's what they give them, then to make it stop, whoever they're torturing will give them anything, even turn in their friends and family."

She pushed herself away from me, so she could look into my face. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying. She choked on her breath a couple of times as she replied, "That's horrible." Then she leaned back into me, crying some more.

I stared at a book that was hidden under a small table that was placed against the wall next to the door under a mirror as I whispered, "Yes, it is."

I wondered what she would do if she knew that I had helped torture people into giving up their families before. I wondered if she would still love me if she knew I had almost killed people because I had used the Cruciatus curse on them for so long. I wondered if she would still want to be in my arms if she knew the hands beneath them had been used to hurt innocent people in unimaginable ways.

"_It's not your fault what you've done," she says to me, taking the bird I am holding in my hands in her own. She holds it up to her face and kisses it gently on the top of the head. She smiles at it. I can tell she likes it. She's always liked animals. Especially birds. She looks up at me. "You've been surrounded by people who have been bad influences on you all your life. You're expected to follow in your father's footsteps. All your family has been Death Eaters. Now they're just thinking, why not you too?"_

_She places the bird in a cage next to the Vanishing Cabinet. I know she plans to take it back to its original cage just outside the Room of Requirement, but since she can't put it anywhere else, for now she has to cage it. I know it pains her to do so. She hates putting anything in a cage. Especially since she has been caged in so many ways most of her life._

_I watch her carefully close the cage door and watch the bird flit around inside the small enclosed space, chirping angrily, as if it can't figure out why it can't fly any farther that the bars on either side of the cage. It's used to a larger space. _

"_That's not true," I say, still staring at the bird. She turns to look at me, confused by what I just said. I repeat myself. "That's not true. I _chose_ to do those things. I _chose_ to hurt those people. I could have chosen not to. There's always a choice, Sophia."_

_She gives me a half smile akin to the one I saw the night I first met her. "Yes that's true." She takes my hands in hers, staring at our entwined fingers for a moment before she asks softly, "But would you have done those things had you not been surrounded by the people you are now?"_

I sighed, coming out of the few happy memories I had of us together, slowly. It was such a pity that our relationship had been so short lived. It was painful. It felt as if I had known her for years, and I had, but in all actuality I had only really truly known her for about a year and a half.

_She would never hate you for what you've done,_ I reminded myself. _If you can torture her, and she will still love you, then I'm not sure what you could do to make her hate you._

However, that was untrue. I knew exactly what I could do to make her hate me, but that was the exact opposite of what I planned to do. Unless I had to, I would never do that. I would never make her hate me, unless I had no other choice. Unless her life was in danger.

I closed my eyes in pain. I wished I could have hidden her better. I wished I could have kept up my façade of being exactly what my father and the Dark Lord wanted long enough for Harry Potter to destroy him or until I worked up the courage to oppose him myself. However, more than any of that at the moment I wished I had listened to Dumbledore. I wished I had taken his offer. I wished I had let him protect me and my family and her. Then I wouldn't be here right now. I would be somewhere safe. With her.

"Draco." Her voice was soft, barely audible over the pounding of my heart. I turned to look at her. She looked very tired, absolutely exhausted, and about ten years older than she actually was. I stroked her face gently, brushing her sweaty hair out of her eyes. "Promise me you will never be like them." She more breathed than spoke the words.

I swallowed. "I'm already like them, Sophie," I said, sounding very near tears.

She shook her head wearily, "No you're not. You're nothing like them. You're kind and good and capable of love. They aren't. They're vile and cruel and have only ever known hate. Please don't ever do that. No matter what happens, promise me you will never let your hatred consume you."

I knew what she was talking about, even though I wanted desperately to pretend I had no idea. She meant if they killed her. If the Death Eaters killed her, she didn't want me to give into my hatred and destroy them mercilessly, heartlessly. She didn't want me to turn into the very evil I was trying so hard to annihilate, if they killed her. She didn't want to be avenged.

Half of me wanted to promise her that I would do exactly as she wanted, but another, stronger half of me, wanted to tell her that that wasn't going to happen. If she died, I was never going to forgive whoever hurt her. I was never going to rest until I avenged her, until the murderer was screaming and begging for mercy as much as she had been at the end. I thought of all the people it might be. My father, Bellatrix, Fenrir Grayback. Maybe even someone else once we had been here for a while.

It wasn't until she whispered my name a second time that I realized I had been consumed by my own thoughts for so long. She touched my face with the tips of her fingers. I gasped and closed my eyes. Still when she touched me, I felt as though she were touching me for the first time all over again. I was still overwhelmed.

"Please promise me, Draco."

Her words brought me back to the real world and I took her hand, kissing her fingertips, before I looked deep into her eyes and said, "If they kill you, I don't know what I'll do, Sophie, but I promise you that I will try to keep myself from turning into them. I will avenge you, I promise you that, but I will try not to be as heartless and cruel as they are."

It was an empty promise. She could tell and so could I, but she said nothing. She only gave me a sad smile that didn't quite reach her eyes and said, in a whisper, "Thank you." I thought about kissing her, about trying to make her feel better, but I knew that I couldn't and I knew she wouldn't let me. Violence frightened Sophie. It frightened her more than almost anything in this world. Maybe even more than her parents. If I couldn't promise her I wasn't going to be violent, there was no way she was going to want to be near me at least for some time.

She goes back to sitting on the window seat, watching muggles pass by below. I sit on the edge of the queen sized bed, sitting directly in the middle of the room. _At least they want to keep us comfortable,_ I thought disdainfully, gripping the bed sheets beneath me angrily, my face set in an angry grimace.

I glanced over at Sophie. Silent tears were running down her dirty cheeks. I thought about going over to wipe them off her face, but I wasn't sure if she was still angry with me or not. I noticed my jacket I had lent her was lying on the floor next to her. I wasn't entirely sure what that meant. Did she want me to go over and pick up the jacket and wrap it around her shoulders again, while holding her? Or did she not want it anymore because of what I had said?

I laid back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. Images of Sophie and I together filled my mind. Images of us happy. Images of us before we were really friends. Images of us speaking and studying together when I first began to get to know her. _Our third year was when we began to really talk,_ I thought, going back to that fateful night in the common rooms when I had noticed her sitting by herself, studying as per usual.

I sighed and closed my eyes.

_What if I hadn't spoken to her then?_ I thought suddenly. _What if we'd just continued being half friends? What if I'd never let myself fall in love with her?_

_What if, what if, what if…_

It all filled my mind, overwhelming me.

_What if she hadn't accepted me? What if she just thought of me as a cold blooded murderer? What if she had been placed in Gryffindor instead of Slytherin?_

_Maybe it would have been for the best,_ I thought. _You wouldn't be here right now if none of this between you and her had never happened. She'd be safe. Away from you. You'd be here, cold blooded as you were before you met her._

_What if I hadn't changed when I met her? What if she'd gone over to the dark side? What if…what if…what if..._

The questions lulled me into a tortured sleep full of nightmares of Sophie being taken away from me, of her wanting nothing to do with me, of her being just as horrible a person as I am. I woke up partway through the day to find Sophie had fallen asleep on the window seat, wrapped in my jacket. She looked as if she were sleeping soundly despite our situation. She took deep breaths. I watched her wrap the jacket more tightly around herself.

I thought about carrying her over to the bed and laying her beside me. It had to be far more comfortable on this bed than on that hard window seat, but then I remembered that she was probably still distrusting of me and I lay back down on the bed, rolled over and tried to find sleep once more.

It took almost an hour for me to fall asleep again, but when I did it was well worth the wait. I slept peacefully. And dreamt of only things that were happy. I dreamt we were back at school. That Sophie was safe. That I was safe. And that we were both happy. Or at least as happy as we could be, hiding our love from everyone else.

The only thing disconcerting about the dream was the maniacal whisper in the background that kept saying the same thing over and over again, _What if, what if, what if…_


	5. Third Year

I am sitting in the Slytherin common room, my Transfiguration homework sitting on a long table in front of me, but I'm not even trying to do it. Instead I'm staring intently into the fire before me, letting images of all sorts of magical horrors dance in the flames. My feet are resting on the table, since it's about as tall as the couches seat I am sitting on. My arms are crossed over my chest, my eyes are narrowed, my pale blonde hair flopping into them, making me look like someone you wouldn't want to make angry right at this moment.

I blink several times, trying to regain some focus, but I find myself incapable of doing so. I lift my head and look around the common room. Most of the other Slytherin's are sitting and talking with their friends around the other fireplaces or studying at the various tables scattered throughout the common room. We have one of the larger common rooms in Hogwarts. The Gryffindor common room is far smaller than ours. I only know because in my second year I'm pretty sure Potter and Weasley used the Polyjuice Potion to look like my two best friend, Crabbe and Goyle and when they walked in they looked amazed. Not to mention they'd acted very odd that day.

I am just about to return to my sulking, though I'm not entirely sure what over when I notice Sophia Avery, sitting in a single couch to my left, studying intently. _She's so odd,_ I think, watching her work hard on her own Transfiguration homework. She's nothing like the other Slytherin's. She would much rather spend her time in the library than with the few people she's friends with. _Like Granger, _I can't help, but think. _She's even a Mudblood too._ However, when I think the derogatory term for a muggle born in relation to this girl, it feels like it must to others who don't really mean it: wrong.

_Maybe she can help you with your homework,_ something says to me.

I snort and roll my eyes. As if. She's a Mudblood. I'm a pure blood. She should be in Gryffindor. And I belong in Slytherin. We would _never_ mix. Never. Ever. Plus, she's smart. It's almost like she's the Slytherin version of Granger. It's kind of annoying to think we have that ilk here. It makes me wonder for the millionth time _why_ the sorting hat decided she would do well in Slytherin.

Thinking of the sorting hat, makes me think of the night I arrived at Hogwarts and what happened after she was sorted into Slytherin, after she sat down at the Slytherin table and smiled at me. She did what no other girl had been able to and still hasn't been able to do in all the years I have been here.

She warmed my heart.

And no matter her blood, that made her special somehow. It had to.

I glance over at her again and notice this time that there is a table between her and another single couch. I sigh, pick up my things and walk over to her. I set my stuff down on the table that is between us and sit down on the couch across from her.

She glances at me only once before she goes back to her studying. I open my mouth to say something to her, but, for the first time that I can remember, nothing comes out. I am speechless. I can't think of anything to say. And then the most frustrating notion pops into my head: _What can I say that will impress her?_

I almost laugh at the absurd idea. Why would I want to impress this girl? She's a muggle born for God's sake. We don't mix, first off, but since that's obviously going to be happening today, the only other thing I can keep from happening is making sure we don't start dating or something obscene like that. I can't even begin to imagine it. Why in the world would I date her? She's a muggle born. I'm a pureblood. It's about this time, I realize I don't know who I'm trying to convince; myself or the annoying voices in my head.

I clear my throat and say, shyly (for the love of God), "Could you help me with my Transfiguration homework?"

She turns to me, slowly, as if she doesn't realize that I'm talking to her at first. Then, when she notices me and realizes that I am, she smiles and says the last thing I expected her to, "You want help?" I think about nodding, but she goes on, running her words right over my thought up response. "I'd thought you wouldn't need my help. You seem to be one of the smarter ones in the class or was I just imagining things?"

I want to give her an awful retort, say something mean and hurtful that will make her want to curl up in her dormitory and cry, but what comes out of my mouth instead, is something completely different: I laugh and say, "Well, normally I am, but I really don't understand this. It just doesn't make any sense to me."

She glances over at what I'm working on. "All we have to do is write a paper on why some forms of transfiguration are good while others aren't as acceptable. It's not really that hard. It's only annoying that we have to write everything out. I really wish we could use computers and type everything instead."

I give her a confused look.

She looks at me confused for a moment also, as if wondering why I don't understand her. Then she seems to realize that she's the only muggle born here and she says, "I'm sorry. I forgot I'm one of the only people here that knows what a computer is. Never mind what I said. Anyway, what is it exactly that you're having trouble on?"

I look at the blanks pieces of parchment that I haven't even tried writing on and my Transfiguration textbook opened up to the page we're supposed to be getting our references from. I think about making something up, so I don't sound as pathetic as I know I'm going to, but I know that won't really help me, so I just reply, "I don't know how to start it. I know what I need to write about. I just can't start it without making it sound stupid."

She takes the parchment from me and helps me write my introductory paragraph, along with the beginnings of each of my body paragraphs. By the time we reach the conclusion, I wonder if I just got to know some of the other muggle-borns or half-bloods, if I could be a nicer person. I know that's unlikely, so I throw that idea out of my mind immediately.

"Do you think you understand how to write paper's better now?" she asks dragging me out of my thoughts.

I smile at her, a real, true, genuine smile. I can't help, but think it might almost be as perfect as the smile she gave me the first night I met her. I open my mouth to thank her, but instead I ask exactly what I shouldn't, "The night you first arrived at Hogwarts, not this year, but our first year, where did you get that horrid bruise from?"

She freezes, her entire body stiffening as if I just yelled, _Petrificus Totalus! _That's when I know I asked the exact wrong question. She turns away and begins gathering up her things, saying, "I fell. I'm very clumsy you know."

I stand as she does, not wanting her to leave for some strange reason. "I'm sorry," I say. "I didn't mean to offend you or anything." She bites her lip, looking over my shoulder at the stairs to the girls dormitory. "Please don't go," I add on a whisper, making me feel even less in control of my mouth than ever.

She continues to bite her lip for a minute, then her face breaks into a smile once more and she says, "Okay."

We sit down in the same seats we were sitting in moments before and talk until the common room empties and the prefects are telling us to go to bed. A few of the stragglers heading off to bed, give Sophia and I odd looks. I try to ignore them, hoping this won't come back and make me regret having been nice to her later. Knowing me with my luck it will.

"Goodnight, Draco," Sophia says, as she gathers her things up and heads towards the girls dormitories.

"Goodnight, Sophia," I say instinctively as a reply.

She turns around and smiles, saying, "Call me Sophie."

I nod and head up the stairs of my own dormitory. Her voice and her name echo through my head all night long.

_Call me Sophie…Sophie…Sophie…_


End file.
